


Another Dream

by ThisisVenereVeritas



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Rating May Change, Series, Sexual Tension, Smoking, implied gency
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10850949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisisVenereVeritas/pseuds/ThisisVenereVeritas
Summary: Neither man is sure where to go to find whatever it is they're searching for, but is known is that there is something missing within them, and that they'll look for it together.A series.





	1. Journey

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I'm trying this out.

Across the last motel bordering on the edge of nowhere, stood a small sundry shop offering only the finest in necessities. Jesse wasn’t planning to waste any of his hard-earned credit on alcohol, but when the anchor flashing on the nearby screen gave the news, he went and bought a bottle and raised it in her direction.

After a three-week deliberation by the UN, it was ultimately decided that they need not reestablish Overwatch “for the time being,” whatever the hell _that_ meant. Vague phrases like that left a sour taste in Jesse’s mouth. Far as he knew, it meant that these men and women had no problem handing power over to those who could save their reputations, but as soon as the environmental terrorists were arrested, assassins dealt with, or Talon gone back into hiding; the very idea of sharing that power seemed outlandish. 

He headed out of the store, fingers already prying the cork from the bottle. A few mouthfuls would quell the rising anger inside of him.

Hanzo sat quietly on the bench across the street. The two were waiting for the greyhound to make its long-awaited return. Jesse would take it to the next city, and, from there, see about regrouping with Angela and the others. With the recent news, Jesse guessed trying to convince Hanzo to follow him for another thousand miles would be asking too much of him.

Despite knowing this, Jesse fell into the bench and took a healthy swig of the drink. He let the whiskey settle and burn the entrance of his throat before giving in to a swallow. “UN rejected our offer,” he said after a hot gasp, and then offered Hanzo the bottle. As per usual, Hanzo refused, and remained tightly composed in his seat. “Looks like we’re all criminals for saving the world.”

“Is that what they said?” Hanzo asked without so much as turning to meet Jesse’s reddening eyes.

“I left before they could” Jesse admitted. “But you know that’s where it’s headed. That’s how it was before. I don’t see why they’d change it.”

He went back to nursing the bottle. Just like old times.

That’s where everything would head. He’d return to being a vigilante, always on the border of being praised or arrested. He’d go back to crossing state lines, never too sure if he was a wanted man or not, always fearful that the next person walking up to him would be sporting cuffs or a subpoena, charity or canned goods, or nothing at all. The latter frightened most of all. After two years of chasing after Talon, Reaper and those old memories he thought he left buried under six feet of regret, it was great to be with everyone again, and to meet so many new friends and acquaintances.

His lips pursed around the opening, ready to swallow all the fear down his burning throat.

“Enough, Jesse.” Hanzo gripped the neck of the bottle and tore it from Jesse’ hands. He tossed the bottle across the road. “You cannot expect to travel inebriated.”

Rich amber spilled from broke broken glass and unto the asphalt. Jesse cracked the knuckles in his thumbs. The loud, wet snaps stopped him from wanting to sock Hanzo in the face. The bitterness resided. “They fucked us over.”

“For now,” Hanzo murmured next to him.

Heat rose to Jesse’s forehead when he felt a hand rest on his back. He was still angry at Hanzo for wasting his drink. Only the constant reminder that he was running on an empty stomach kept him under control.

In front of them, the alcohol began to fizzle and evaporate. The pool dwindled around the broken glass, dissipating into the hot sky. It wasn’t until Jesse was at his most uncomfortable, sweat rolling between his eyes, did he succumb and rest against Hanzo.

“What do I do now?” he asked too loudly.

Hanzo looked in the direction of the road. “Do what you will,” he answered. “But do not remain stagnate in your ways. After everything you’ve said to me, it would be impractical… _hypocritical_.”

A breeze from the south swept over the two, temporarily calming Jesse down just long enough to think straight. “Where will you go?” he asked, quieter.

“To seek solace.”

It could mean anything, but at that moment it made perfect sense to Jesse. His eyes followed Hanzo’s, and he stared at out at the wide road ahead. The last time Overwatch broke down, hardly anyone kept in contact with one another. Jesse stopped calling Fareeha about school, Angela over Genji and work, and everybody else that mattered to him. Those painful memories from before kept him hesitant. What if he took the bus,  the train and, finally, the airport, only to arrive to nothing?

He tugged the quiver’s harness. “Mind if I tag along?”

In no way was Hanzo obligated to say “yes.” They shared a few good missions together, and Jesse was one of the few that looked past the assassin’s arrogance, and make real use of the talent he possessed, but that didn’t guarantee a comradery. But when the wind stilled and the whiskey burned up from the road and Jesse’s cheeks, Hanzo agreed to let Jesse come with him, and when the bus finally reached the last rest stop for the next three hundred miles, all that was waiting there at the bench were two spent tickets.


	2. On a Hill

Up on a hill, and under the twinkling encouragement of stars, Hanzo dropped his bag, turned to Jesse, and then said, “We’re done.”

Jesse was only too thankful to rest. He cast his things down and kicked off his boots. After a bit of rummaging, he found the last of his chewed cigars, and he lit it up next to Hanzo. A few good puffs were all he needed to help bring him down. Jesse fell into the soft grass and stared at the night sky, letting nature’s wonder distract him from the sore muscles and tender blisters. The wind blew a gentle breeze, lighting the tip of his cigar aglow. Next to him Hanzo sat, legs pulled up to his chest as he stared down the hill, to the endless fields. It was at the end of the moon’s cycle, but damn if Jesse didn’t think the light from the stars were enough to enunciate those sharp, handsome features Hanzo was blessed with. It should be a crime to look that good under the starlight, especially since Hanzo didn’t appreciate any of it.

“Jesse?” Hanzo spoke up. He continued to stare down the hill, in search of something in the darkness. “What do you desire to find in this journey?”

The question was, naturally, unexpected. Up until that point, Jesse’s mind wandered, bordering on the romantic elements currently at play. They were alone, after all. And Hanzo just whispered his name! Damn, Jesse loved hearing Hanzo say his name, playing it soft like a delicate instrument. With no city nearby, nothing was polluting the sky, and Jesse could look up and spot the Andromeda above, or galaxy, or maybe just a gorgeous cluster of stars that brought out the rich, dark brown out from Hanzo’s eyes. Either way, the question caught Jesse unprepared.

“You wanna repeat that for me?” he asked, rolling his cigar across his smile.

“I travel because I am lost,” Hanzo said, low and humble. “For years, I have been searching for the things I’ve lost along the way.” 

“Yeah, you mentioned that before,” Jesse replied with a nod. He breathed in, letting the delicious, bitter smoke filled his lungs as he waited for Hanzo to continue, and treat him to more philosophical delights. 

“You are one of the few who seem to see something in me I cannot,” Hanzo continued.

Considering what usually came out of Hanzo’s mouth, it might as well have been the nicest thing the he’s ever said about anyone. But, Hanzo being Hanzo, Jesse knew the statement was far from being down. “Yet, despite this, you too are missing something vital.”

This was it; the “catch” to being invited on the journey. Hanzo wanted to make sure Jesse wasn’t tagging along just to get away from all the bad news sprouting up. This couldn’t solely be about Overwatch always on the brink of being dismantled by the UN, and Jesse’s way of constant avoidance to confronting the problem. No, if Jesse was going to travel with Hanzo, there better damn well be a purpose attached to it. Jesse thought it was a fair enough request, but couldn’t think of where to start. How did these soul-searching journeys usually pan out?

Jesse plucked the cigar from his mouth. Better to ask the master, he thought. “What do you think I need fixing?”

“I can only suggest,” Hanzo replied. “But no matter what, it is up for _you_ to decide what you need most of all, Jesse.”

Jesse was sure he had read something along those line from a fortune cookie once. He probably used those lines to wrap a chewed-up piece of gum, or immediately rolled it into a ball before tossing it Commander Morrison’s way. But Hanzo said his name twice in just under a minute, and the way it rolled off his tongue left Jesse craving for more, and a strong desire to supply him a worthy answer. 

He actually spent a few minutes trying to think of the meaning behind those words. What the hell did Hanzo want from him. How to impress a man like him? All the while, Hanzo sat patiently under the stars, awaiting his response. Jesse knew he could spend the rest of the night not saying a word, and Hanzo would only continue to give him all the time in the world to answer. Something about that made him stop, and instead of coming up with a brilliant response, he went ahead and collected what he already knew, organized it as best as he could, and spat it all out.

“I’ll be frank with you, Hanzo,” Jesse started, flicking the ass from his cigar right as Hanzo slowly faced him. “I’m chasing you because the thought of facing reality right now leaves me feeling sick. And I’m sure you already know that. And if what you’re saying is true, then what I need to do is grow a pair and face this ordeal like a goddamn man. But I don’t want to do that right now.”

It was a confession on top of a confession piled on another confession, and Jesse expected such a response to garner a few looks from Hanzo. At the very least, he expected Hanzo to need a few minutes to come up with a reasonable reply.

Just as the weight of his confession started to lift, Hanzo asked him, “Is that so?”

Jesse blushed, feeling ashamed at the brevity of his reply. “Afraid so,” he confessed yet again. “So, instead, I think I’ll enjoy the sights…with you, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Hanzo replied, again too quickly for Jesse’s liking.

“And maybe, if it’s not too hard, I’ll take you up on one of your suggestions,” Jesse added, feeling the heat in his ears spread over his cheeks and neck.

This time Hanzo stopped to think. He rested his face between his legs and went back to staring out, away from Jesse. Jesse went back to staring up at the key, but ended up covering his eyes with an arm. 

Was Hanzo’s silence because he was trying to think of one thing about him that needed improvement, or was he wafting through a long list of faults, and struggling to think of just one that Jesse could handle.

“You drink when you are upset,” he heard Hanzo mutter above him. “Be wary of it.”

 _Finally_. There, you see, he thought. That’s not too bad.

Jesse lifted his arm to see Hanzo peering down at him. In another, crazier universe, one where the stars aligned perfectly, Jesse would reach up and pull the man even closer. For the time being, he was thankful that Hanzo was tolerating him. One step at a time.

“Hanzo?”

“Yes, Jesse?” Hanzo replied. Something about the way the shadows covered portions of Hanzo’s face made Jesse feel small, but in a good way.

 “Thanks for having me here,” he said, smiling apathetically up at Hanzo. “I swear, once all this is blown down…”

Hanzo’s hand stopped him. “It’s alright, Jesse,” he said, patting the younger man lightly on the chest. He raised his head up, and under the limited spectacle provided by the stars, Jesse caught the brief, but welcoming glimpse of a smile. “It’s alright…I am glad to have you here.” 

Jesse rolled to his side, nearly dropping his cigar in the process. With his free hand, he covered a portion of his face. “Yeah,” he said, feeling the wetness of a toothy grin spread under his palm. “Well, I’m happy to be here, Hanzo.”

Four times. That’s four times Hanzo said his name in a single night.


End file.
